


because

by Kit_Kat21



Series: Beatles Tribute [21]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 01:30:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20165911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: Jon Snow walks into the kitchen and immediately stops in his tracks. “Are you helping?” He asks, doing his best to not sound completely alarmed. He manages to refrain from shouting for his wife in a panic.“Yep!” Eight-year-old George exclaims with a wide grin.“No,” his twin sister, Eleanor, refutes at the same time. “He’s my taste tester.”“Oh,” Jon can’t hide his relief at that.





	because

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Descend_N2_Madness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Descend_N2_Madness/gifts).

> Happy Abbey Road Day! On this day, August 8, 1969 - 50 years ago - the Beatles were photographed crossing the road for their "Abbey Road" album in the now iconic photo. For that reason, I had to name this very random one-shot after a song from the "Abbey Road" album. I honestly didn't know if I was going to write any more stories for this universe, but I just love this entire story line/family and it's hard to let them go completely. Thank you so much to those reading and still loving these.

…

Jon Snow walks into the kitchen and immediately stops in his tracks. “Are you helping?” He asks, doing his best to not sound _completely_ alarmed. He manages to refrain from shouting for his wife in a panic.

“Yep!” Eight-year-old George exclaims with a wide grin.

“No,” his twin sister, Eleanor, refutes at the same time. “He’s my taste tester.”

“Oh,” Jon can’t hide his relief at that.

George in the kitchen can be… well, it can be quite a disaster. But it’s just not George. The two youngest, four-year-old Julia and three-year-old Max are to be kept _far_ away from the kitchen without proper supervision and even their oldest at twelve, Brandon, isn’t allowed to do most things in the kitchen without one of his parents – or an adult – looking after him after he had tried to reheat some chicken strips in the microwave for eight minutes and nearly set the room on fire.

_“But that’s how long we cooked them in the oven!” Brandon had wailed as Jon and Sansa had hurried to open some windows, get Lady and Ghost to stop barking at the fire alarm (and to calm the other children down) while throwing the smoking, burnt tenders in the sink to run under the water. _

Oddly enough – or perhaps not odd at all since she is their mini-Sansa – Eleanor is the most trusted child to be in the kitchen, able to pop popcorn or heat up soup on the stovetop without Jon or Sansa needing to watch her like a raven as she does it.

“It smells good,” Jon says with a smile, coming to lean on the other side of the counter across from her.

“It’s just marshmallows, daddy,” Eleanor says as she stirs the melted white goo in the bowl, but she smiles, clearly pleased by his compliment.

George takes one of the marshmallows from the bag that haven’t been melted and hands Jon another, both watching as Eleanor then takes the whole box of Rice Krispies cereal and dumps it into the bowl, beginning to mix the melted marshmallows with it. Jon has to smile. She’s as precise and methodical in the kitchen when it comes to baking, just like Sansa – even if it is just Rice Krispies squares.

“Thank you,” Eleanor says as Jon holds the pan steady for her as she begins to pour the sticky mixture in, smoothing it out evenly with her spatula.

Jon smiles as he watches her. She seems to be taking these Rick Krispies treats very seriously and Jon doesn’t dare mess up her concentration by asking her what they’re for. Like Sansa, sometimes, Eleanor just wants to be in the kitchen and make something whether there’s a reason for it or not. Sansa encourages this and anytime she’s going to be making cookies or brownies or baking a cake, she calls Eleanor to come help her.

She learned to make Rice Krispies treats last year for the elementary school-wide bake sale fundraiser and now, every time they go grocery shopping, she asks for Rice Krispies and marshmallows.

For the most part, Jon and Sansa add them to the shopping cart. There are worse things she could ask for.

(George’s addiction to HandiSnacks has gotten completely out of hand and Jon pretends he’s not worried because it’s just HandiSnacks he needs once a day in his lunch and not alcohol, but still, Jon worries about these things and is always on the lookout for his kids displaying particular predisposed behaviors...)

“Done!” Eleanor proudly declares and promptly hands George the spatula so he can lick off whatever marshmallow and Rice Krispies combo is sticking to it. “Here you are, daddy,” she then pushes the tray across the counter towards him.

“For me?” Jon asks, understandably surprised.

“Yep!” Eleanor smiles, proud of herself. “For your meeting tonight. Mama said I could make you something.”

Jon’s AA meetings on Wednesday nights have come to be potlucks – everyone bringing a dish to share. Jon usually brings a pan of lemon bars that Sansa makes – and which are quickly devoured during the hour meeting. Jon looks down to the pan of Rice Krispies treats his daughter has made for him and then looks to her again, feeling stunned enough to be knocked over with the a single-finger push.

“For me?” He asks again.

“Yep!” Eleanor nods her head, still smiling widely. “Will the people at your meeting like them, daddy?”

Jon looks at her with a soft smile. “They are going to _love_ them, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t know how she manages it since it’s already wide, but Eleanor’s smile somehow manages to grow.

George is still licking the spatula and Jon comes around the counter to put his arms around Eleanor, picking her up from the step stool she is standing on. He hugs her and Eleanor giggles.

“Thank you, Eleanor,” Jon murmurs to her, too overcome suddenly to be able to speak louder than that.

“You’re welcome, daddy,” she replies happily and hugs him back.

Jon finally puts her back on her feet, returning her to the top step of the stool.

“Mama said these meetings are important to all of us,” George is the one to say in between licks.

Jon exhales a breath, feeling a pressure on his chest. He manages a nod. “Your mama is right.”

He’s already had this particular discussion with Brandon when he was ten, explaining his alcoholism the best he could to a ten-year-old who just couldn’t understand such a thing. Jon is glad his son can’t fathom it. He knows he will have to have the conversation four more times with his and Sansa’s four remaining children, but the twins are only eight. Is this too young?

“Before I loved your mom and you kids more than anything, I loved something else and it wasn’t a good kind of love,” Jon chooses his words carefully; simply so they might be able to understand some of it.

“Alcohol,” Eleanor states knowingly.

“Do you know what alcohol is?” Jon asks.

“Grandma Lyanna calls it adult juice,” George answers.

Jon finds his lips moving upwards a little at that. “That’s actually a pretty good way to explain it.”

“So, you go to the meetings so you don’t love alcohol?” Eleanor wonders.

“It helps me not love it,” Jon nods. George is still licking the spatula though all remnants of Rice Krispies Treats is long gone, but his eyes are on Jon and Eleanor is looking at Jon as well. “And your mom, you two, Brandon, Julia and Max _really _help me.”

“We’ll keep helping!” George happily declares.

Jon finds himself smiling widely at that and he puts a hand on George’s head. “I’m lucky to have you all. But not everyone is lucky and many at my meetings don’t have anyone except the others there.”

Eleanor frowns at that. “Can George and me come? They can have us, too!”

Gods. Instead of smiling, Jon feels like he’s seconds away from crying. Brandon has asked to come to a meeting and Jon and Sansa have decided that once he turns thirteen, if he stills wants to go to an AA meeting with Jon, they will allow him. It seems like the same rule will apply to all of their kids.

“When you’re a little older,” Jon tells them both. “Some things said at the meetings aren’t for little ears.”

Eleanor and George both produce mirror frowns at that, but thankfully, neither begin to protest.

“Make sure everyone at the meeting gets a Rice Krispies treat tonight, daddy,” Eleanor says. “That always cheers me up and it will cheer them up, too.”

Jon smiles. “I will definitely see to it.”

After that, with the bag of marshmallows that Jon knows he shouldn’t let them have, but can’t bring himself to confiscate, George and Eleanor hurry into the family room where Julia already is, the little girl playing with pink plastic tea set, having a tea party with Ghost – the dog wondering when the scones Julia is serving will stop being plastic and start being real.

Jon goes to the drawer to get the tinfoil so he can cover up the Rice Krispies treats and when he turns, he sees that Sansa is standing there now, watching him and the soft smile across her face lets him know that she’s just heard every word of his conversation with the twins. Jon’s eyes have already been feeling wet and at the sight of his wife, he sniffles.

“Christ, are we really responsible for raising them?” He asks, his voice sounding amazed to his own ears.

Sansa laughs at that and then comes to him, her hands sliding up his arms and then her arms winding around his shoulders. Jon tosses the tin foil onto the counter behind Sansa and then circles his own arms around her waist, holding her close as he always does.

“My mom has always said that with five kids, we mainly raised ourselves most of the time,” Sansa jokes.

“That makes sense,” Jon nods. “There’s no way I can take credit for such awesome kids.”

…


End file.
